


Not Your Everyday Picasso

by spicysoo



Series: Infinite Drabbles [2]
Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-16 18:47:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9285230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicysoo/pseuds/spicysoo
Summary: Hoya meets Myungsoo at an art gallery.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fIavea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fIavea/gifts).



Hoya doesn’t know what made him step beside the slightly taller man before him, especially since the other was quite good looking in his dark blue suit - a contrast to Hoya’s basic black, but something about him had made him feel like a kindred spirit. The guy’s dark look and general ‘I don’t really want to be here’ had really spoken to Hoya on a level that he didn’t think possible. Because like the guy beside him, Hoya was just as displeased by where he was and what he was looking at and if Hoya had been any less of a friend, he’d probably wouldn’t have been here in the first place.

However, looking over to see a taller man than the one that he was beside in a classy, yet fashionable, maroon suit, the other smiling, laughing, and doing his utmost to talk about the two paintings that he was currently showing, Hoya had done a good thing by coming here. Even if he wasn’t a big fan of art and was a hair away from being bored to death as various yuppies drank wine, ate cheese, and talked about the various paintings and photographs that hung along the gallery walls. Some had even bought some pieces as well, the gold stickers signifying what had been sold— pieces that ranged from a couple hundred to a couple of thousand dollars made Hoya wonder if the art business wasn’t as bad as people made it out to be. But even then, getting your foot in the door was probably the hardest part and those that were able to sell their paintings and photographs for more than a hundred had to be doing something right. Especially that L.Kim dude that already sold all of his pieces within an hour, one of which had been priced at $8,000.

The only painting that had sold for more than that was… Actually the painting in front of them…

Eyes widening in surprise to see what had sold for more than ten grand, Hoya was quick to realize how stupid he was when it came to art. Because looking at the painting before him, a mess of colors that had easily made Hoya think of vomit, he couldn’t believe the piece had been sold for that much money, let alone a penny.

It was grotesque and disgusting looking and who in the hell would want something like that on their walls?

Hoya would rather have his neighborhood kids throw mudpies and worms at his wall than for him to put up something so ugly, let alone have it showcased in a gallery. So why it had it been sold for so much money? Who the hell bought it?

Suddenly unable to stop himself from wondering if the man beside him had done so, the other having looked at this painting for at least more than a couple of minutes. The other staring at it in a way that made Hoya wonder if he was having some deep reaction to the art he was currently looking at, Hoya found himself asking, filling the void of silence with words.

“You buy this?”

Only for the other man to turn his head so fast that Hoya wondered if he had gotten whiplash, the man looking at him as if he was crazy, it was seconds before the other gave, voice terse, “No, never. This piece is an absolute abomination and completely defies the artist’s original intent. It’s an eyesore and the person that bought it is an absolute fool.”

Surprisingly unperturbed by the man’s intense answer, especially since Hoya full-heartedly agreed, Hoya found himself letting out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding.

“Thank god. I thought I was the only one that thought this painting looked like shit and wondered what the artist was thinking. My neigborhood kids could create something better than this and they barely know the difference between primary and secondary colors.”

Seeing the other’s lips twitch, almost as if the other had thought what he had said was funny, Hoya quickly found himself asking, “Since you seem like an expert, what was the artist supposed to make one feel?”

“Happiness and joy, but the artist won’t tell you that.”

Giving the other a searching look, it didn’t take much for Hoya to get what the other was implying. The man’s emotions were clearly on display and it was an interesting to see someone so expressive that Hoya couldn’t help but want to talk to the other more, to ask him what he thought… To possibly get his name.

“He really missed the mark then?”

“Yes, yes he did and it pains me to see other pieces in here get looked over for something like this. Even the disgust I feel isn’t from the painter’s motives, but from the lack of time, effort, and awareness that the artist has displayed. This isn’t art, but sadly, not many see that, because as much as there’s beauty in ugliness, something inherently ugly isn’t always beautiful.”

Nodding at the other’s words, at how intelligent the other seemed to be, it didn’t escape Hoya’s notice that the other man was probably the most beautiful thing in the room and that his intelligence was something that had probably went unnoticed quite often. Stereotypes damning him, despite the passion and eloquence he was currently displaying.

Hoya may not know much about art, but it was obvious that the other man was quite knowledgeable and if Hoya had been a teenager, he’d probably say that was hot. Since he wasn’t though, he found the man to be scintillating in more ways than one. The other’s eyes twinkled, almost as if he had stars in them, and Hoya found it hard to look away.

Desire running through him, urging him to continue the conversation, Hoya found himself giving an open smile, “So if this is ugly, then what do you think is beautiful.”

Only for the other to light up and quickly turn his attention a few other pieces in the room. The man quick to give his take on each one, explaining each artist’s intent and the emotions he felt, centering on pieces that instilled feelings of childlike joy, serenity, and even righteous anger. Hoya may not have exactly felt what the other had been feeling, but when he had looked at the colors, the composition, and even the subject matter, he couldn’t help but feel himself become a bit more willing to look beyond the surface.

What was even more surprising was that he had found the impromptu tour fun. Which was saying something, because approximately an hour before he had met the man beside him, he had only felt boredom. But now, he was smiling, laughing, occasionally exchanging jokes, and sharing his thoughts when it had come to the art pieces that the other had showed him.

Im Siwan became synonymous with pastel watercolors.

K(r)ystal did beautiful black and white photography using animals and people as her subjects.

K.Will seemed to be the king of post impressionism.

Hell, the other had even placed themselves in front of one of his friend’s paintings: a field of red sunflowers contrasting with a black and white background with the silhouette of a young woman, and had found only good things to say. The other liking the rawness that was brought from inexperience and trying to find their voice, a young artist coming into their own, and if that wasn’t amazing, Hoya didn’t know what was. Because in a room filled with beautiful pieces, his friend’s was one of the other’s favorites and he couldn’t help but want to tell his friend that he had nothing to worry about and that he had been nervous for nothing.

The golden sticker was even more telling, and while the painting hadn’t sold for thousands of dollars, Hoya’s eyes almost bugged out at the price the painting had sold for. $900 wasn’t something to scoff at, especially since it was one of his friend’s first pieces and he couldn’t help but be a little proud.

His friend had to be beyond ecstatic, really.

Looking around to see if he could see him, only to see the other in an avid conversation with a potential buyer for his second piece, Hoya was quick to turn his attention back to what he was doing. He could tell his friend everything he had wanted to say later, so letting the other man point him to a couple more pieces, Hoya couldn’t help but wonder why they had skipped every photograph and painting by the popular L.Kim.

The artist had talent in spades and it was odd for the other man to completely skip them and show him something else. Even Hoya could see the beauty in the artist’s pieces and that was saying something since Hoya knew little about art, so Hoya couldn’t help but wonder what the other’s deal was.

At least, until he had finally learned the other’s name. His friend, Sungjong, almost having a heart attack when he had seen the other man beside him. His friend unable to voice anything other than “Y-y-you’re L-L.Kim… K-Kim M-Myungsoo… Oh my god! I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you’re here… And with my best friend…”

Surprise etching itself across his features, Hoya could only stare at the other in a mix of wonder, ‘Oh shit, how did I not see this,’ and shock. While the other man, Kim Myungsoo, could only give the two of them a sheepish smile, softly giving, “Guilty as charged… Sorry if I had gotten a little carried away, but I couldn’t help myself. It’s not often that I see people like you in galleries like this, at least not without someone else, and you were so accommodating, it was kind of difficult to not talk your ear off… I apologize if I overstepped in any way. Or heaven forbid, bored you even more.”

Quickly shaking the disbelief away so that he could focus on what Myungsoo was saying, especially the odd tone and lilt to his voice, Hoya had somehow managed to give, “Um, no, no, you didn’t overstep at all… I may have been here for him, but you ended up saving me from the boredom I was feeling. Sorry, Sungjong,” Hoya shrugged towards his friend, before going on, “I ended up having a lot of fun, though… Too much, actually.”

Heart stopping at the flush that had appeared across the other’s face, the other looking quite adorable, Hoya could only grunt into his hand.

“So if you have the time, you can continue, even though we may have one more now.”

Looking over to see Sungjong give the two of them a look, the other’s eyebrows raising in understanding - of what, Hoya didn’t know, the shortest of the three couldn’t help but be surprised when his friend decided to back off instead.

“No, no, no. I still have a few things I need to do, so I’ll leave you two alone… It was l-lovely meeting you Myungsoo-ssi.”

“You too,” Myungsoo replied with a small bow, before Sungjong gasped out, “Oh yeah, I really love your work, especially the one called ‘Depth’ over there. Very beautiful and breathtaking.”

Eyes wandering to a dark picture filled with deep blues and purples, painting giving a mysterious yet calming feeling, Hoya had to agree. It was one of his favorites as well, even though, the most interesting one was a watercolor painting called the ‘Drowning Lady’ where Hoya could make out a distended body placed what would seem like miles below the surface of a body of water. It was a bit morbid and dark, but there was something uplifting about it as well, almost as if the woman within the picture had finally realized something important during her dying breaths.

Turning to Sungjong to give him a questioning look, only for the other to give him a smirk, Hoya found himself clenching his fists when the other whispered in his ear before leaving, “Looks like you two have hit it off, so don’t mess things up, alright?”

Wanting to say he didn’t come for something like that and that he wasn’t interested in dating at the moment and that the two were barely acquaintances, Hoya couldn’t rebuttal the point either. Because as much as he wanted to say he wasn’t interested, he kind of was. Especially when the other gave him a small smile, dimples showing, and had talked to him like a human being and thought his opinion had meant something.

Hoya had never expected that, but after an hour or so with the other man, it was something he couldn’t help but like.

It had been ages since he had last dated and even then, his last boyfriend hadn’t been that great. While Myungsoo here was not only intelligent, but he was cute and kind too, and if Hoya was reading signals correctly, the other may be a little bit into him as well. So forcing down the need to put his foot in his mouth, Hoya nodded and let Sungjong go his way before he was turning his attention back to Myungsoo, suddenly nervous.

“So… Any other pieces? Maybe you can show me some of yours, tell me what you were thinking while you did them?”

Seeing the other’s face light up once again, almost as if the other was slightly worried he overstayed his welcome or something, Hoya found himself tagging along, letting the other continue what they were doing earlier. This time, the other was a bit more candid and open than he had been moments before. And if the two had eventually devolved into subtle teasing and flirting, Myungsoo more flirting than teasing and Hoya a bit more teasing, being the awkward man that he was, no one was really aware of what had transpired between the two. Everyone else leaving them alone in favor for other artists and pastimes, realizing nothing of what was currently transpiring, it didn’t take long for the two of them to exchange numbers.

Date already being set for their first date, something of which Hoya couldn’t be surprised about as well.

Burgers, beer, and catching a local football game were things Hoya enjoyed, but for someone like Myungsoo, who exuded a similar air to the higher class, it had been a refreshing thing to hear.

So much so, that when the two of them had to say goodbye, Myungsoo giving him a cute, dimpled smile, Hoya hoped that everything would go all right. Because if it did, he kind of already had another date planned, jinx be damned.

Because as much as Myungsoo was a bit of an art snob, rightfully so, Hoya had an extremely good feeling about him.

His gut was literally telling himself so.


End file.
